Between the Lines
by EllieRose101
Summary: For all those times the camera cut away, but you were left wanting more... Allow me to fill in the gaps. A series of Spuffy "missing scenes," that could have so easily been part of canon; from throughout the seasons.
1. Something Really Blue

Author Note: This particular "Missing Scene" comes from the Season Four Episode 'Something Blue' (obviously). We're at the bit where the spell's been done, and Spike and Buffy are trying to help Giles with his blindness. The Slayer needs to get ingredients from the Magic Box, but her vampire has ideas for some fun and games before she sets off.

Just a bit o' good old smut, to kick off the series :)

* * *

**Something Really Blue**

"See? This is how it's gonna be. Spike will even take care of you while I'm at the Magic Shop," said Buffy, trying to comfort her ex-watcher, before standing up to return to her fiancé's arms. "From now on we're a family," she declared before locking lips with him once more.

Kissing Spike was fun, she thought, mentally kicking herself for not realizing before. Simultaneously his hands and her mind wandered.

'_Wonder what else might be fun to do_,' she mused as he grasped at her needily.

Hearing Giles fumble his way into the kitchen in search of more Scotch, Spike took his opportunity to whisk his slayer upstairs without the older man noticing. On the way past he eyed his now discarded ropes, lying on the floor, and got a wicked idea for how to spend the evening when she returned.

'_For now, though, we'll just have a little taste_,' he thought, silently taking the stairs two at a time, holding Buffy against his chest; her arms locked around his neck and her hot breath against the cool skin of his cheek. '_Can't wait to really feel her heat on me_.'

Having not been upstairs before, it took Spike a moment or two to find the spare bedroom; though, he was distracted by Buffy nibbling on his earlobe.

He roughly pushed her down on the bed and Buffy let out an involuntary yelp before clasping a hand over her mouth.

Spike grinned, "No need to keep it down, luv. Not like he can easily come searching for us."

Buffy gave him a playful shove, "_Really_ don't want him to hear us. How awkward would that be?" but her vampire wasn't listening. All his efforts focused on undoing both their belts. Buffy moaned slightly in anticipation. "Should we be doing this?"

"No," he answered, honestly. "Wanna stop?"

She shook her head and answered, "Definitely not," before pulling him down on top of her for a heated kiss.

Spike had released his cock from his pants, and she could feel it straining against her. She'd never been so wet, and the aroma was driving him mad.

He pulled back a little and commanded her, "Take off your top. Bra too," while he finished undressing her lower half. Obeying, she lay flat on her back as he moved down her body, positioning his head above her soaked underwear and looking up at the view of her bare breasts. "Oh yeah," he said, taking a deep breath, "I'm gonna enjoy this."

Again she moaned just thinking about it.

He snapped off her panties and buried his face in her quim, making her buck against him.

Spike smiled into her skin before parting his lips and sliding his wickedly masterful tongue inside her and out again, getting a shudder in response. Twirling it around her clit a half dozen times he went back to her opening and slid in again as she spasmed around him and dug her fingers into his hair.

"That, was… amazing," she panted. "I've never, felt so much release."

Again he grinned at her and admired the view of her peaks from his low vantage point, as she took a moment to get her breath back. When she did Buffy pulled him up her body and pushed him over so she'd be on top. "You're turn now."

Spike was awestruck, having never expected her to be so forward.

When she grasped him in her hot little hand his eyes automatically closed to try and savor the sensation. "You're gonna be the bloody end of me," he said, which spurred her on to pump him faster. Harder.

Before he knew it he felt her lips gently glide over the head of his cock and his eyes flew open again.

"Minx!" he half shouted, before he yanked hard on her free arm and pulled her to his chest.

Buffy's brow furrowed in confusion, "You don't want me to…?" she began to ask, but he put two fingers to her lips, halting the question, and told her to lick them, which she did.

Upon removing his moist digits from her mouth he trailed them down to her clit and began circling around it until she lost all desire to question him.

"I wanna do this," he said, "While you do that."

"Oh!" Suddenly she remembered her task and began pumping again.

"Together, okay?" he said.

"Yes," she agreed "Together."

Minutes later they both fell over the edge into orgasm and Buffy found herself biting down on Spike's neck to hold back her scream of pleasure.

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed, as she retracted her teeth from his skin and mumbled, "You're the wind beneath my wings," into his shoulder.

He pushed her back a bit, so he could look in her eyes, "What was that, luv?"

"I said…uh," her mind stumbled, realizing what she'd admitted out loud, "Wind Beneath my Wings. Y'know, the song? I think it'd be great for the wedding."

"Oh," he said, eyeing her suspiciously for a moment, before nodding his head and saying "Well, I have always liked that one," kissing her forehead and lying back down on the bed with a 'plop'; completely sated.

* * *

Hearing movement somewhere above him Giles called out, "Buffy? Have you left yet?" unsure to exactly which direction he should be addressing the question.

"Oh, uh…" she mumbled, while wiping her mouth. "Yeah. On my way"

"Anytime today," he groused.

Buffy pouted and whispered to Spike, "I really should go. To be continued?" before leaving a chaste kiss on his lips and pulling away for the final time to quickly pull her clothes back into place.

He growled, a little, at the sight of her leaving and the thought of how they could progress later. The noise made her look back over her shoulder and give him a wink, and that gesture had him pawing at his groin again, as she shut the door.

"Magic Box here I come," she said to herself, on the other side, unable to stop smiling.

* * *

Later, when the spell had worn off and everyone was heading out, the Slayer confronted Spike about his 'Wind beneath my wings' reference.

His self preservation instincts told him that mocking her for the comment was cutting close to the line, but at the time he couldn't help himself. Buffy made it clear that any other wise cracks that might alert her friends or watcher to what happened would result in him being staked - whether he was defenseless against her or not.

"Ye m'am," he said.

"Good," she spat, before turning away from him, taking the ring he'd given her from off her finger and gently putting it in her pocket, for safe keeping.

Unbeknownst to her, Spike had a keepsake of his own, in the form of her torn underwear.


	2. Unseen Faith

Author Note: This instalment comes from the Season Four episode 'Who Are You?,' at the point where Faith has stolen Buffy's body and is flaunting it around The Bronze when she bumps into Spike. You already know bits of the scene described, but here you can get inside the character's heads a little, and see what they're thinking as it unfolds. Plus there's an extra bit to the canon, of course. It explores the reason why the Slayer and Slayer of Slayers can't off each other, once and for all. [Hint: there might be some latent attraction...]

* * *

**Unseen Faith**

Using Buffy's body to tease Spike gave Faith a thrill like she'd never encountered before. She was saying all these things to wind him up, but she couldn't help but get a little wound herself. Faith was controlling the words and the actions of the other slayer but it was him making her heart beat faster, no matter how much she willed it to shut up and slow down.

_'Does B always have this reaction to sexy vamps?'_ she wondered, _'Or is it just this one in particular?'_

The thought amused her, and she was tempted to explore her curiosity. Spike was obviously up for it, which was also interesting.

'_Does this body always get him hot? Does Buffy know? Does _she_ get off on it? All excellent questions.'_

Once her mind started down that track it was like a runaway train. The renegade slayer had tacked 'doing it with a bloodsucker' onto the end of her mental bucket list not long after she heard about B and Angel. _'Must be good having someone almost as strong,'_ she reasoned. _'Maybe Buffy's so attracted to this guy 'cause she knows how good it can feel doing the undead.'_

_'Nah,'_ she thought, finally, as she pushed the temptation away. _'The end of my bucket list is where that particular desire is gonna stay, because no doubt it'll end up being the freaking _cause_ of me kicking the bucket. No way I'm trusting a vamp to get that close, chip or no. Only had this body a day, don't wanna kill it that quick… even if it would be super fun.'_

Regardless of how firmly she had decided against it, the blood was still pumping hard and fast around her hijacked skin and it was getting more and more difficult to pull away from the cloud of lust falling around her. She needed to cut it out, and quickly.

Just one final twist of the screws driving Spike crazy and she began backing away. The look on his face was priceless.

"I get this chip out, an' you and me are gonna have a confrontation," he said.

"You can count on it," she replied before stalking off toward the bar. There was the sound of breaking glass in the background but Faith ignored it. Now she was all het up there was only one thing on her mind: finding someone to screw who was in no danger of attempting to murder her while she got her rocks off.

* * *

Just as she leaned across the counter – intentionally pushing out her meager chest as she went – to speak her order directly into the barman's ear, she felt someone tug her back by the arm. Instinctively she pushed them away before even looking to see who is was. Spike was in front of her again, with steam practically coming out his ears.

She was about to yell at him for grabbing her when the barman distracted her, asking what she wanted to drink. Spike told him to sod off before turning back to the slayer saying, "D'ya know what? I'm not sure I fancy waiting for that confrontation."

"Well," said Faith, "I would say bring it on, but aren't you a little… disabled?"

That had him grabbing her arm again, and again she pushed him away – only harder that time. "Back off, chip boy. Don't wanna hurt yourself."

Her lust had dissipated, leaving her pure and simple pissed off.

"Right about that, Slayer," he said, drawing himself in close to her once more, but not reaching out to touch again. "It's _you_ I wanna hurt."

"Tough words from someone who couldn't do damage an itty bitty fly. Tell me, have you always had a death wish? Don't think the fact that you're incapacitated is gonna stop me from staking you good."

He roared with laughter at that one, forcing Faith's anger to move over and make way for her curiosity to peak again. "Wanna explain to me what's so funny, vamp?"

"You," he said, shaking his head. "You could never kill me in this state. What's the use in empty threats?"

"Little rich coming from you," she said, outwardly dismissing him, but she took his words on board.

_'There's no way he'd be playing with fire if he thought for a second she'd take his head off. Must be real sure of himself. No - sure of _her_. But why wouldn't she kill him? She knows he's evil. Even if he can't attack physically there are plenty of other ways to do a little damage, and yet here he is still walking around. Mercy can't be all of it.'_

When she came out of her thoughts he was still right up close, in her face, staring intently at her.

"What's gotten into you tonight?" he asked.

Again she backed away a bit. Feeling uncomfortable she threw down some more words intent to wound, out of defensiveness. "Certainly not you, that's for damn sure."

He clenched his jaw but continued to stare at her. The silence built for a moment before she dared ask, in earnest "Why d'you think I can't do it?"

"You know why," he said, with just as much sincerity.

She shook her head. "Enlighten me."

"Come off it, Slayer. I don't know what game you're trying to play. Acting all sexy and then acting dumb. You know bloody well there's something – some _thing_ much bigger than both us – drawing us together. I can feel it and so can you. I've craved slayers before, but that has nothing on you. And deny it all you want, but I know I get under your skin. Give you tingles that just isn't the same as any other vamp. I can hate you, hunt you to the cows come home, and you can beat me to a bloody pulp – literally, in fact – but while there's this thing in our systems driving each other nuts for the other? We've got ourselves a little piece of immunity from going the whole hog and finishing each other off."

Faith knew he was right, and suddenly she was pissed again. This time on Buffy's behalf – and _that_ was a new experience.

"Don't reckon I like being a puppet," she said.

"Don't reckon we have any choice," he shot back. "Just don't make this any harder than it needs to be, or God help me I'll pay someone to finish you off and break your damn thrall once and for all, Slayer. I'm not joking about that."

"Fine," said Faith, hating herself for giving in. "No more hard ball. Get out of here."

He took that invitation – walking off without another word – and she watched him go with a stern look on her face.

_'That encounter wasn't nearly as fun,' _she thought.

Sitting down, she went over everything again in her head.

_'The slayer has thrall over a vampire? What the hell's up with that?! This body's drawn to him so bad it doesn't make a damn bit of difference who's driving it.'_

A guy came over to her, then, and asked her to dance.

"Sure," she answered, following him to the floor, where she concluded: _'If B ever gets her body back I'll leave her to figure out her little hard-on for vamp boy. Not. My. Problem.'_


	3. Battle of the Exes: Part 1

Author Note: This "Missing Scene" is from the Season 5 episode 'Into the Woods', in which Riley and Buffy are having their breakup argument and he finally confronts her about her feelings for a certain vampire. There's less denial than you might expect from the Slayer...

* * *

**Battle of the Exes: Part One**

Buffy didn't think their argument could get any worse until Riley said, "Part of me thinks – part of me_ knows_ that some part of the reason you don't feel enough for me is because you feel for someone else. Or some_thing_."

Her mouth dropped open. She was speechless. There was no doubt about which person-thing…vampire, he was talking about.

"What is with you two?" he asked, then went on to say, "Actually, no, I get what's with him. What's _your_ deal? That's what I wanna know."

"Riley, what are you talking about?" she said, finally.

"You know, how you are with him."

She shook her head, "You're not serious!"

"I paid him a visit today, y'know?" he said, casually, and a look of genuine fear washed across her features, momentarily – before she could get her emotions in check.

"You… you didn't hurt him, did you?"

Riley shook his head then, and turned away a little, though it was obviously a reaction to her words rather than an answer to them. "See!" he said, finally facing her again, pointing a finger towards her, "What is that?"

"What is _this_? Cryptic Clue? I have no idea what you're-"

"Like I said, I get him following you around – as much as I hate it, I understand it – but what I _don't_ understand is why you let him. Do you like it, is that it?"

Buffy took a moment to try and process all his semi-rhetorical questions. Taking a breath she asked, "What is it you're accusing me of? Not killing an innocent-"

Riley let out an automatic laugh at her choice of words, interrupting her.

Another deep breath later she started again, "Okay, not innocent, exactly. But harmless. You're angry because I'm not getting rid of him? You know I can't. It's not right if he can't defend himself."

"No," Riley shot back at her, "Don't try to make this into a moral argument, there's something more to it."

Buffy's fuse was nearing an end. "What has this got to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with it!" he maintained.

"No, Riley. We're talking about you cheating, in the _worst_ way. And you blaming me, and you leaving me!"

He clenched his fists, saying, "I'm not the only guilty party here."

She slapped him. "Don't you dare try and imply that I went behind your back. With anyone, let alone Spike!"

"Buffy I'm not blind!" he shouted at her. "Maybe it hasn't happened yet, but there is something building between you too and it's kept you from me. Might as well be cheating."

She couldn't believe what he was saying. Rage filled her veins.

"Tell me," she said, in as calm a voice as she could muster. "Tell me what's building between me and Spike. Because I'd like to know."

"How can you pretend you're not aware of it?" he replied, but she was silent, awaiting her answer.

"Fine, I'll spell it out. He's always around."  
Buffy rolled her eyes, but he ignored her and plowed on. "You let him in your house. Let him around your family. Confide in him!"

She couldn't deny that part, but he wasn't done there.

"What about that time you told me you were engaged and then laughed it all off as a big joke after? Joke or not, you can't tell me it's a coincidence that you picked his name to represent the groom. Well, actually, you can – and you did. Like an idiot I believed the worst cover up story I think I've ever heard. What really happened, Buffy?"

She sighed and admitted, "It was a spell."

"Yeah. Magic. Of course," he said, completely dismissing the idea as another lie, before passing to the next accusation. "What about when you were giving him shelter, at Giles' house, when you knew my team had been searching everywhere? You prioritized him over me."

"The spike situation and the you situation were completely unrelated. He-"

Riley threw up his hands and Buffy glared at him.

"Gosh, are you gonna let me get through one explanation without interrupting? You're the one wanted to talk and all I'm getting is half-crazy rants."

"What's the point letting you '_explain_'?" he said, "I know I'm right about this."

"You're not. At all!" she insisted, and he gave up arguing the particular point, instead going back to defending his own actions.

_To be continued..._

* * *

Next Time: Spike defends the Slayer against Drusilla. Stay tuned! (And please review! _Please?_)


	4. Battle of the Exes: Part 2

Author Note: A "Missing Scene" set directly after the end of the Season 5 episode 'Crush,' in which Drusilla has one last go at trying to talk sense into Spike regarding the Slayer. But he defends his girl to the hilt.

* * *

**Battle of the Exes, Part 2**

Spike returned to his crypt utterly dejected. He thought about how Cecily Underwood turning him down had once felt like the worst pain in the world, and how it had been quickly replaced by the agony of betrayal at Angelus shagging Drusilla right under his nose. He laughed bitterly to himself, and muttered, "Didn't really know pain and suffering until I met her."

_Her_ meaning Buffy, of course.

When the Slayer told him he was beneath her – something he didn't necessarily disagree with – it stung a million times more than his Victorian crush. When she'd pushed him away, and left him to cry like it was nothing, he felt truly worthless. But even that feeling was overshadowed by not only her uninviting him from her home – her _life _– but it was the look that went along with it. That look would kill him, if he mused on it long enough.

"Ol' Jack the order of the day," he spoke again to himself, before stifling a sob.

He'd reached his crypt just as the tears began to fall, and was so caught up in resenting them that he hadn't noticed Drusilla standing there. The vampire wasn't aware of his sire at all until she reached out in faux comfort and whispered, "It's not right for my prince to cry."

As soon as her fingertips grazed his shoulder he pulled away, instinctively, and told her in no uncertain terms to "Sod off."

"But why do you push me away?" she asked, innocently, before raising her voice to add, "I made you!"

"Yeah," he laughed, "Thanks for that, bitch."

Drusilla looked cut to the bone at the remark, but he knew she didn't _really_ care.

"You sneer at the life I gave you?"

"You call this life?" he asked, moving around her to reach for a bottle of whisky, and then deciding to smash it instead of drinking its contents. "I should kill you for what you've done."

"You never could," she countered, and his shoulders slumped. Of course he couldn't. No more than he could kill Buffy, or the lil bit.

"Bloody pathetic," he mumbled.

"Need to shake off your harness," Dru told him. "Let me kill it. Let me kill her, Spike, and you'll be free."

That was it. Rage took him over completely at the mere suggestion that she'd hurt the Slayer, and he grabbed her hair – almost ripping it out with the force – and dragged her to himself where he spoke directly into her face.

"If you ever go after her," he spat, "If you even try-"

Dru laughed. "You'll do what?"

"I… I'll –" he gripped her tighter, until she winced, and then a thought came to mind. "I'll stake your precious Angel."

"No!" she howled, and slapped at him, as if he'd made good on the threat already.

"You don't hurt her," Spike stated, firmly, "And I'll leave the great ponce alone."

"Such a disgrace, you are," said Drusilla. She didn't have to agree to his terms. He knew she wouldn't risk going against him on it. That he wasn't lying.

"Don't rightly care," he replied, shoving her away again.

"Shouldn't do it to yourself," she commented. "Not the fun kind of torment."

"Right," he rolled his eyes. "Are you gonna get out now, or do you wanna piss me off some more?"

"How did she catch you?" she asked, ignoring his question.

Spike gritted his teeth and didn't reply.

"Saw you falling, I did, but I could never see why."

"She's light," he said, with a sigh, "She's light, and I'm drawn to it. Can't pull away."

"No," she agreed, with a bobbing of her head, then changed the subject by asking, "Does she know what you did?" then shaking her head in answer of her own question. "You wouldn't tell her, oh no. Bad Spike wouldn't admit to it. But did she find out? Did birdies whisper in her ear?"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, Dru?"

"Our kind you killed. So they wouldn't go after her. So you could have the fight all to yourself."

"Fight other vamps 'cause of the chip. Gotta get my violence somewhere."

"No. Before that. I saw. You protected her."

"Shut up!"

"You did. You protected her from lots of little beasties, over the years. And you'll never get credit for it, if she doesn't know."

"I know she'll never feel the same," he admitted, "Know what I do won't matter."

Drusilla smiled at that; one of her knowing smiles, that made him uneasy. He told himself it was his imagination; that she couldn't possibly see anything in his future and be hinting at it with her eyes. He looked away, so as to not get lost in her eyes – get carried away in the hope they held for him and his Slayer.

"Please, just go," he said to the ground. There was no response, which surprised him. When he looked up again he saw she finally listened to him. His sire was gone, and he'd never see her again.

Slowly, he blew out a sigh of relief and turned back to his fridge for another drink.


	5. Squeeze

Author Note: "Missing Scene" from Crush, minus Drusilla's and Harmony's interference. (You may wonder why it's slightly out of sync - seeing as the previous scene was set after the end of Crush - and also why it doesn't fit in with canon, but that should be clear by the end.)

* * *

**Squeeze**

Buffy had gone to Spike's crypt to talk to him – adult to adult – about his supposed feelings for her. She expected excuses; she expected him to deny all knowledge; she expected further declarations of admiration. She _hadn't_ expected to find a shrine to herself, made out of things he'd stolen from her house. In shock she took herself away, back up the ladder to ground level, out the door and back home. That was the plan, at least…

As she reached the top of the ladder her eyes met his. He was crouched there, waiting for her. "See anything interesting?" he asked.

"Spike, I… what, what happened?" she stammered, still perched on the top rung.

Silently he offered her his hand, helping her the rest of the way up. Automatically she took it, but when they were both standing upright, face to face, he still hadn't let go.

She shook her head slightly, trying to clear the fog that had overcome her ability to think. It didn't work, she was lost – trying to read his face – but when he spoke again she snapped right out of it, grabbing her hand back and taking a couple of steps back.

"What did you say?"

"That I probably have some explaining to do."

"Pah! That's putting it mildly!" she spat – her brain was fully in gear by that point but things still didn't make sense. "What the hell is all that stuff down there?"

"Right, yeah," he said, looking bashful and avoiding her gaze. "Thing is-"

"Save it," she said, cutting him off. "You can't just dump your feelings on me, expect me to deal with them then and there and then drop the further bombshell that you've been, what? Stalking me these past few months? Years?!"

That got him looking at her again, on the defensive. "Hey, I wasn't gonna drop a single feeling on you, you're the one that pushed it. Shouldn't ask questions if you're not ready to hear the answers to them, Betty."

She glared at him, silently, for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Do you _seriously_ think pissing me off is the best thing to do right now?"

"No," he admitted.

"Rhetorical," she said. "Look. I don't like it, but can we just sit down and talk about all this? Clear the air, and _try_ to be civil?"

"What? Your mum tell you to break it to me gently?"

"_Spike!_" she warned.

"Okay, okay, I'll be good," he said, holding up his hands in defeat before gesturing for Buffy to sit down. When he sat opposite her the awkwardness compacted. He would look at her, then look away. She'd do the same, accidentally catching his eye each time.

"God, I can't do this!" she said eventually, taking to her feet once more. "You're such an idiot."

"Hey," he said again, "Civility, remember?"

"Spike, you have a freaking desk filled with my junk not two feet from your bed. You can't tell me that's not weird!"

"Being undead kinda redefines what's weird and what's not, pet."

"Don't call me pet. You're a stalker. An undead one hundred year old stalker, and why am I even having this conversation?"

"Actually, it's one hundred and twenty-"

"Not helping," she said, interrupting.

He sighed, "What do you want from me? There's not much I can say in my defense, except you make me crazy and having spent the last century doing a whole pile of weird shit with a loony bin I sometimes fail to think through what's appropriate."

He had a point there, but she sure as hell wasn't going to admit it. In absence of a verbal response he carried on talking. "I'm sorry, okay? You were never meant to see that."

Her glare was back again, and he began to back pedal. "I'm not saying that makes it alright. I've already admitted I don't have a defense, remember? I'm just saying, I never meant to creep you out, and I woulda got rid of it - eventually. I was being stupid, it's just..."

"Just what?" she prompted, annoyed with herself for softening so easily.

"It's just I think about you all the time, and I don't exactly have friends to offload on. Got no one around to tell me when I'm being an idiot, so it takes me a little while to figure it out on my own. And God help me Buffy but I really am love's bitch and there's not a thing I can do to stop it. I understand if you want me to stay away for a bit, to process, that's what you said, right? That you need time? I can give you time, just know that I mean it. I love you and I'm sorry. How can-"

"Stop talking," she said, gently. "I get it, kinda. You went a bit crazy. You acted stupid, this is nothing new. I'm not saying I return your feelings, or that I ever will. But if you do fix this – get rid of that stuff and speak to me, like you just did? I think I might be okay with you kissing me now."

"What? Buffy, I-"

"Stop," she repeated. "No talking, just kissing. Okay?"

He took her into his arms in response, kissed her passionately like she'd never been kissed before. She felt floaty, complete with butterflies in her stomach. Then he lifted her up, into his arms, and took her back down the ladder to his bedroom.

* * *

That's when she woke up, with a jolt. "Damn it," she said out loud. "Ended before getting to the good part _again_. Stupid vampire."


	6. Comfort

Author Note: This "Missing Scene" is set between the Season Five episodes 'Forever' and 'Intervention,' in which Spike attempts to comfort Buffy after the death of her mother.

* * *

**Comfort**

He hadn't meant to bump into her – knowing full well that his tendency to make her feel worse wasn't abating – especially after his mangled attempt at professing his feelings. No. Making her feel bad was something he _really _didn't want to do, so he'd been avoiding potential run-ins. His gut was already in pain for her. Joyce's death hit a little too close to home for him, and he knew how much Buffy would be cut up. Regardless of all that, though, she was on patrol, and he found himself in her way.

After lending an unnecessary hand to the dusting of other vamps, Spike watched Buffy amble over to sit down and rest atop a tombstone.

"If I didn't know any better," he said, "I'd think you were after a chat."

The Slayer shrugged, and looked at him, implicitly asking if he was offering one. Not one to look gift horses in the mouth he sat on the stone beside hers and asked the first question that entered his head.

"Did Angel help?"

Again she shrugged, and the vampire cursed himself. Then Buffy said, "He helped, for a little while."

Her voice sounded so small, and delicate, and he hated it. It wasn't right. Wasn't _her_.

She continued saying, "In the end, he never stays. It never helps then."

"I'm sorry, luv," he said sincerely. The great git never was one for walking out of people's lives having made them easier.

"I know," Buffy replied. And after the moment of acceptance followed a brief window into her grief, in which Spike thought she might actually burst into tears. If she'd been on top of her game she'd have thrown an insult at him instead.

"Dawn tried a spell," she told him, with a tortured look on her face. "She tried to bring mom back, and I knew it was stupid, and wrong, and wouldn't work" – she choked out a single sob – "Knew it wouldn't really be mom. But, for one second, I thought I'd get her back. It just made the whole thing worse."

Spike was racked with guilt at hearing that. There it was – further confirmation that anything he did to try and help only ever backfired. Not knowing what to say, he stayed silent, and the Slayer surprised him by switching the topic suddenly.

"I've been cutting people off," she said. That threw him. Spike hadn't the slightest idea where it had come from, until she explained. "I pushed Dawn away, to make it easier to handle the practical things. Before that, though… After Angel, I think I kind of shut down. But, really? I'm so scared of being alone."

Looking over at her, intently, the vampire could see she was almost on the verge of tears again.

"I know I'm not the person you want around…" he told her, "But, Buffy, if you need anything. You know I'll try my best, right?"

"Right," she agreed, with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes, then she stood up and went to continue her patrol, only briefly looking back over her shoulder to say, "Thanks."

* * *

Clem came out of the shadows, then, and laid a hand on Spike's shoulder.

"Was that the Slayer?" he asked, redundantly.

"Yeah," the vampire hung his head, trying to process what she'd told him.

"Well, good," said the demon, "It's nice that she can turn to you."

Spike shook his head. "She can't. I only ever bugger stuff up but… Clem, I can't walk away from her."

"So, what're you gonna do?"

The vampire didn't answer, directly, just muttered to himself, "She needs someone? Well, so do I. Jus' can't be her… Not for her sake. Gotta just wait for my alternative."

Clem nodded – not having the first clue what Spike was making reference to.

It was the next day that Spike picked up his robot.


	7. Help

Author Note: "Missing Scene" from the Season Five episode 'Spiral,' in which Buffy enlists Spike's help in the great escape attempt from Glory.

* * *

**Help**

For the second time in two days Buffy was knocking on Spike's door, asking – no, practically begging him for help. Not that begging was necessary. Ever since he had risked his life and limb to keep her and Dawn safe she had no doubt he'd do anything for her. It was such a change from her kicking the door in, and beating him to a pulp herself. 'What a difference a couple of weeks make' she mused, while waiting for him to answer.

When he finally came to the door he was shirtless and his hair was messed up.

"Sorry," she said, trying to hide her awkward enjoyment of the view. "Didn't mean to wake you. You… your bruises have healed well."

He smiled saying, "Bet you didn't come here to discuss my pretty face."

"Right," she confirmed, re-focusing her mind. "Got any alcohol?"

That was not the question he expected. Tilting his head for a second he moved aside and gestured for her to come on in before walking to his bar and pouring two drinks.

"That bad huh?" he asked.

She nodded "That bad. That really really bad. We have to run away together."

Taken aback by her words he battled with himself, refusing to get too carried away thinking about her meaning. When he raised his eyebrow she explained.

"Need to take Dawn to safety. She can't stay here, we'll all get killed."

Now it was his turn to nod. "Right, when we setting off?"

She looked at him intently then, once more amazed at his willingness to help her.

"Buffy?" he prompted.

"I told the guys they had an hour," she said, looking down at her watch. "That was twenty minutes ago."

His heart sank, a little, but he tried to shrug it off nonchalantly "Everyone's coming?"

"To leave them is to leave them in danger," she said, and he knew she was right. He couldn't argue with her instinct to protect, but that didn't stop him from trying.

"You, me and Dawn in a sports car could get further faster," he reasoned.

"No. More. Danger. For anyone!" she snapped and he didn't push it anymore.

"Sorry," they said in unison before laughing, releasing the tension around them.

"It's not that I'm not tempted," said Buffy, in a gentle tone. "Right now that sounds pretty good, but I can't leave them. Tara's already got hurt. You… you already made your sacrifice. God, I have some nerve even asking you for anything else."

"Buffy," he said, equally gently, but looking away from her. "I'd do it again, in a heartbeat – even if I don't happen to have one. I love you."

"Thank you," she said, and he dared to glance up again. "Thank you what you did with Glory, for still wanting to help. For helping me realize Willow was in danger yesterday, and for what you said to Dawn."

He smiled, again. "Told you that, huh?"

"Yeah," she confirmed. "She said you were very sweet. Why don't I see that side of you more often?"

Shifting uncomfortably he puffed out his chest a little, "Macho male pride?"

"Ha, yeah, that must be it. Whatever it is, though, I… I think I'd like to see more of it. You're sweet side, I mean. And who knows, maybe one day you'd get more than your crumb," she blushed, hardly believing she admitted that out loud.

He beamed up at her, in gratitude. "Been meaning to thank you for the crumb. That kiss, Buffy, it meant a lot."

"I know," she said, before taking a deep breath. "I know, but we have bigger things to deal with right now."

They stood up, signaling the end of their heart to heart.

"Back to work. I need you to steal a van. Big enough for all of us."

"Slight issue with that," he said, pointing towards the door. "It's kinda deadly for me out there right now."

Buffy frowned. "We can't wait to nightfall."

"Won't need to," he said. "I know the perfect place you can pick one up. Can talk you through the basics of hotwiring. Even give you some nice shiny aluminum foil to vamp proof the widows of the Winnebago."

Her frown deepened in response to his suggestions, and she shook her head. "I might be okay with you stealing, under _certain_ circumstances, but to do it myself? Whole different moral dilemma."

"Now's not really the time for moral dilemmas, pet," he said.

"I know," she said. "But can I pretend you forced me into it?"

Again he smiled, "Sure thing."


	8. Nothing

Author Note: "Missing Scene" from the Season Six Episode 'After Life', following Spike's "Every night I save you," speech.  
Warning: Major feels. This is quite dark, but the situation called for it. And I am following canon, for this series, after all.

* * *

**Nothing**

He gave her the speech. He needed to. The words had been building up in him – playing on his mind, ever since the night she came back. There was a part of him that had wanted to kneel at her feet, when he first saw her face again, and beg for forgiveness right then and there. But he'd pushed the urge down, at the time, knowing that it wouldn't have helped her. God, how he'd have done anything to help her. Or, at least, not make things worse. When she came to his crypt of her own free will, though? He couldn't stop himself anymore. Spike felt that if he didn't apologize he might burst, and he half wondered if an explanation was what she'd come for.

So he put the words out there, and the burden was gone, but it didn't make him feel better.

All those hours of crafting the sentences were wasted. His words didn't change anything, and he hated himself for his inadequacies.

Buffy said nothing in response. There was nothing more _to_ say – from either of them. He'd delivered his piece, and she'd accepted it. Or, at least, she hadn't rejected it. Didn't seem to react one way or the other, in fact. Hadn't really opened her mouth at all, except to point out his bleeding hand, but Spike reckoned that was understandable and let it slide. Silently resolving never to mention it again, he waited for her to make the next move…

Nothing came. Not for a long while.

The silence was oddly comfortable. Eventually it was broken by a sound caught somewhere between a whimper and a sniffle. A single tear ran down Buffy's cheek, to accompany the sound, but she didn't seem to notice it. Spike had enough intuition to realize it was likely something that had been building and wasn't able to be released before then – much like the way he had been. She couldn't cry in front of her friends, and that realization made him ache, but it was eased somewhat by the knowledge that she could show herself to him. Knowledge was a funny thing, he thought; it could damn you and bless you in a single swoop.

He could give her nothing, in that moment, beyond simply being there. That's what he knew.

And Buffy knew he expected nothing from her - for that she was beyond grateful.

When her vampire spoke again, to ask if he could walk her home she gave the briefest nod.

He was torn for her, in a million ways. So happy that she'd let him take her home. So sad that'd she'd be leaving his. Joyful she walked the planet at all, and in agony that simply existing caused her so much grief.

The walk was just as quiet, and somehow even more comfortable. Buffy walked so slow that Spike was tempted to think she was dragging it out on purpose. Well, she was, he knew that. But was it for his company? Or just because the other option sucked more? He didn't know. The unknowns were stacking up, and he got a glimpse into the dark void that had overtaken his Slayer.

She gave him another brief nod when she reached the door.

He whispered, "I love you," into the darkness, after she shut it.

On the other side Buffy slumped against a wall, demanding of herself a logical reason why Spike was the only one she could turn to. Drawing a blank she shook her head. There were reasons, they just didn't seem so logical…

'He loves me,' she mused. 'He loves me and I can give him nothing.'


	9. Where We Go From Here

Author Note: Missing Scene from Season Six Episode 'Tabula Rasa' - filling in the blanks between Buffy turning away from Spike in the Bronze, and them ending up kissing mere minutes later.

* * *

**Where We Go From Here**

He approached her, with an open, questioning look on his face. Without a word the vampire before her was begging for a small chunk of her company, and she almost couldn't bear it. His emotions ran too close to the surface, and they tempted her own to follow suit, which ultimately caused her to retreat in fear.

She turned away, but regretted it instantly. Even with her back to him she could feel his hurt and rejection in waves, and the Slayer was overwhelmed with an urgency to stop him in his retreat back to the shadows.

"Wait!" she called out, without turning to face him again. Buffy couldn't allow herself to see him – to look in his eyes – as she asked of him what no one else was willing or able to grant her. Choking back a sob she threw out the words: "Please don't leave me."

If he was really the evil creature she kept insisting him to be, yet knew full well he wasn't, Spike would have pounced on her insecurity in that moment, calling her out on her mood swings and mixed signals. But, of course, he didn't.

Glancing down at her empty glass he ordered her another and, when he passed it over, she took hold of his hand and finally looked in his eyes again. Her own were full of unshed tears.

Not dropping her hand – but letting it hang loose, so she had full control of when their palms broke contact – he sat down on the stool beside her. Neither said a word for some time, but eventually the Slayer did let go of him and begin to sip her drink.

Even his presence made her feel better, and she felt wrong for that realization. Wrong, but also thankful, and curious. There was definite curiosity – to see how well he really could help take her mind off things. And, with that thought, Buffy's self loathing came full circle, and she concluded she didn't deserve Spike, or his attentions. There was no way she was going to tell him that, though.

"Want a third?" Spike asked her, shaking her out of her reverie enough to notice her glass was empty again.

"No," she replied. "I should… Let's go."

"Let's-?" he began to repeat in confusion. Was she asking him to go with her? No, he thought, that couldn't be right. But she was tugging at his hand again, and he couldn't help but follow. Ever the eager puppy, he cursed himself for being so willing to please, when all he ever got was kicked for it. Spike knew full well that whatever openness Buffy treated him to that night he'd have to sorely pay for the next day, but like a moth to a deadly flame, he only drew closer.

Before he knew it she'd stopped under the staircase and was stood there, with her back to the supporting pillar, looking at him. There was no question what she wanted, in that moment, and he leaned in to deliver the kiss, but left the final inch of air separating their mouths for her to cross, as he'd done, outside, the previous week. She closed the gap, and closed her eyes. Drank him in, and got lost in the experience.

It could have lasted for a minute, or an hour, she wasn't sure, but at some point during their heated embrace Buffy realized it would have to end at some point, and the knowledge made her furious. She kissed harder, and more urgently, and Spike met her lips with equal fervor and intensity, like she knew he would. Of everything in her crazy world, he was the only thing she was sure of. And there was the truth of it, again, hitting her in the face. She didn't deserve him. And, so, she pushed him away, and left without a word or a backward glance.


	10. Getting Intimate

Author Note: This missing scene is set between Season Six Episodes 'Wrecked' and 'Gone'. Obviously by this stage where our couple are together, in a sense. Clue is in the title about what's about to go down...

* * *

**Getting Intimate**

Buffy was tossing and turning in bed, still unsettled because of what happened to Dawn the other night, and how it could have been so much worse. Spike had been keeping an eye on her – a very close eye. She knew he was there, in the shadows, when she got under the covers, but at that point she didn't care. It'd been a long day, and she was tired – exhausted, physically and emotionally – having not got any sleep the night before. She knew he couldn't resist joining her, and that in the morning she'd regret not throwing him out, but it wasn't morning yet…

When he called out to her, saying "It's all right now, luv," and gently pulled her back towards his bare chest it was too tempting to get lost in him.

"Don't worry. It'll be our little secret," he said, before kissing her shoulder, kissing her mouth and making all her worries fade away, like they were nothing; like only he could do.

Feeling him hard against her, she moved on top of him and he slid her tank top over her head, then slipped one hand between their bodies to undo the drawstring of Buffy's pajama pants. She let out a little moan, due to his other hand taking a firm grasp of her breast.

"If we're quiet, they'll never know," he continued to whisper.

"Yes," she said, ever so softly, before kissing him again.

* * *

Tonight was a slow dance, and Spike was leading. Rolling Buffy back so he could be on top, he put his lips to her neck and suckled the tender skin there, before tracing the line of her collar bone to her chest using his tongue. Once more she moaned, which spurred him on to taste her nipples; giving attention to the left first, then the right, before continuing his journey of exploration on down her body. Knowing exactly his intentions Buffy was wet in anticipation.

When his head was level with her navel he gave a tug on her pants, pulling them off in one go. They'd barely hit the ground by the time his hands were back at her legs, firmly pushing them apart to allow him access.

Buffy hooked one arm under her pillow and her other found its way to Spike's hair, tousling through it as he administered the first lick that sent a shockwave of pleasure throughout her. Further licks to her entrance were accompanied by Spike's thumb on her clit, massaging it in rhythm. Her climax didn't take long, but he wasn't done yet…

Climbing back up the bed, to be face to face, Spike stared down at blissful Buffy – lying with her eyes closed. "You want me inside, eh kitten?" he asked, and she responded with a slight nod of her head. Normally he wouldn't be satisfied with just that – he always wanted her to say it out loud – but tonight the focus was on giving her what she needed, so he let it slide.

Still lying between her legs he had one arm beside her head and was using the other to place his cock just outside her opening. After a moment or two of teasing the area, making sure it was prepared to take him all he began pushing on in. Quickly his free hand was needed to be placed across Buffy's mouth as she automatically began to cry out in ecstasy.

He smiled and slowed down again saying, "Maybe you should invest in some soundproofing."

"Shut up," she said, but there was no hint of annoyance behind it.

"Don't think _I'm_ the problem," he said, still teasing.

Opening her eyes, she looked at him intently as she began rocking her hips until he couldn't help but grunt. Then she smiled in victory saying, "I can make you enjoy it just as much."

"Got me there," he said, before thrusting harder and both of them lost all desire to joke.

* * *

Buffy's second and third orgasms took longer to build, and were more intense than the first. Spike came as the final aftershocks echoed through her body. They lay there, wrapped in each other's arms for a few minutes afterward, still high off the sensation, but eventually the logical part of Buffy's brain kicked in again and she started to push him away.

"I know, I know," he said. "Don't wanna risk Niblet or Red walking in on us. I'll go."

"Thank you," she whispered, and he got up to search for his clothes.

* * *

The next morning Buffy came downstairs and was surprised to find Spike on her couch watching cartoons.

"Did you even go home last night?" she asked him, and he flashed her a wicked grin.

"Spike, this is not okay. We should… we have to talk about what happened up there."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Whole place stank of garlic. You should get that looked at."

"I'm serious," she said, giving him her best scowl. "You can't just make yourself at home any time you like."

"Really," he said, pulling her onto his lap.

She protested at first, but when he kissed her she returned the motion.

_'Stupid body,'_ she thought to herself, _'Always betraying me'_.

The kisses continued for a little while, but so did Buffy's thoughts and when Spike's hands began to wander she was forced to put an end to it. Pulling back she glared at him again and he made the expression of a puppy dog.

She rolled her eyes and explained for the hundredth time that what they were doing wasn't safe, and if Dawn caught them she'd murder him.

"Fine," he said eventually, with a pout, before standing up. Having been on top of him, Buffy was forced to stand too. He leaned over, to whisper in her ear, "You should rejoin me when the others have left for learning."

With another quick peck on the mouth, and a cheeky wink, he was gone – taking off up the stairs silently as he made his way back to her bedroom.

Buffy was left standing there, overcome with a mixture of emotions.

_'I'll show him,'_ she thought to herself.

* * *

End Notes: And here we have the answer to whether the flashback scenes of our couple in Buffy's bed during 'Dead Things' were real or not. And also how Spike's lighter may have ended up in the couch, in 'Gone'.


	11. Chance of Life

Author Note: This Missing Scene is set around the time of 'Doublemeat Palace'. Agnsty-awkward conversation, about a raw subject.

* * *

**Chance of Life**

Entering his crypt Spike was pleased to find Buffy sitting there, waiting for him. He was less pleased when he saw she had that distanced look on her face again, though. More unshed tears in her eyes.

"Buffy?" he asked, reaching out to stroke her cheek. She flinched away, and his heart sank.

_'Is this the day she finally ends it?'_ he wondered to himself, as he sat opposite her.

"What's wrong?"

Buffy looked at him, then shook her head a little as she cast her eyes elsewhere around the room. She had her arms wrapped around herself, and she pulled them tighter as she said, "You wouldn't understand."

Spike made a scoffing sound, and suddenly her eyes were back on his. She'd have glared him into the ground, if she could.

"Really full of yourself, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "Reckon I gotta be, since you have no faith in me."

Buffy sighed. "This really isn't about you."

"Fine!" he snapped, standing up. "Maybe it's not my business, and maybe I wouldn't understand, but I'm willing to damn well try."

Lowering his tone, he continued, "You're here because you know I'll try. Because you don't dare open up to anyone else. So here I am" – he spread his arms wide in front of her – "Open up whenever you want. Ready an' waiting, tha's me."

"I hate how you're right," Buffy admitted, which made Spike crack a grin.

"Thanks, pet."

"Ugh!" she groaned, throwing herself further back into the couch. "It's everything, and it's nothing. When did life become so complicated?!"

"When you started having one again," Spike hedged. "…or maybe when you started being able to create it, again."

Another hard stare from her to him, but different from before. He knew he'd guessed correctly.

"Can smell you Slayer," he explained, to which she gave him a horrified look.

"You're disgusting."

"Hey, now, none o' that. Can't help the senses I got. Add a basic fact to a little intuition and, yeah, I think I'm able to understand. It's your first one since you were resurrected, right?"

"We are _so_ not talking about this."

"Why? You think chattin' about periods is gonna scare me off? There jus' another fact of life, Buffy."

"Don't say that."

"Right, okay, 'cause that's the real problem, init? It's what they represent. The ability to have sprogs. To give life. From your prospective, as one who takes lives – one who's lost her own life more than once – I can see why-"

"I don't take lives," Buffy interrupted.

"Yeah," he flashed her a mocking smirk. "Because demons don't count as real beings. Our lives don't matter."

"That's right," she ground out. Spike's faux smile dropped, then, and he got in her face.

"You don't believe that."

Buffy was trembling, just ever so slightly, but she refused to give in. She bit her lip, to stop herself.

The smirk returned at her silence, but it was more genuine the second time round. "No," he repeated, "You don't believe that."

She looked away from him. "Am I a bad person?" she asked, in a small voice. "Is this fate, or the powers that be, or life itself taunting me?"

Finally the wall that had been holding back her tears broke, and one trickled loose at her words.

"No, Buffy," Spike reassured her, before amending: "Well, not any more than anyone else."

Closing her eyes, the Slayer wiped angrily at them. "Why am I freaked?"

"Because you forgot what it felt like to feel stuff. An' havin' your monthlies reminds you that you're human, tha' your a woman, who can have kids."

"Please stop talking about kids!" she pleaded. "And stop being insightful, it's freaking me more."

Nudging her over, where she sat, Spike placed himself down beside her and lit a cigarette. Unthinkingly he offered her one, too. And to his great surprise she actually _did _take it – not to light, of course, but to twirl in her fingers.

"You did ask," he finally responded. His eyes were transfixed on the careful movement of the white stick in her hand. Reckoned she was seeing some kind of metaphorical significance in that, too, but decided not to mention it.

"Look, Buffy, I know havin' a normal life an' family is a sore issue for you."

"Ha! You have no idea!"

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed, snatching the cigarette back from her so she'd look at him again. "You want to believe I don't understand you. That's why you get all pissed when I say somethin' that proves I do."

"Shut up!" she snapped – standing up. "Just stop talking!"

Spike took a deep breath.

"Tense, luv?" he asked, softly. Sincerely.

Buffy was gonna respond with a emphatic 'duh' but he spoke again first.

"I could give you a massage? Help you relax."

She looked down at the floor again and released a sigh. "Yeah, that'd be nice."


	12. Just a Dead Thing: Part 1

Author Note: This missing scene is set during the Season Six Episode 'Dead Things.' It tells the story of what happened to Spike after Buffy beat him up and left him in that alley. Should go without saying but, this one's a little dark. Be warned.

* * *

**Just a Dead Thing: Part One**

When Buffy walked out of the police station again, only moments after she went in, Spike knew she hadn't admitted anything. Logically he knew it was probably because of some reason other than the few he'd offered her, but part of him hoped what he said mattered to her. Either way she wasn't giving up her life to rot in a jail cell, and for that he was thankful. Would have given a sigh of relief if breathing wasn't so damn painful. All he could do was watch as she passed the mouth of the alleyway he was lying in. To her credit she did hesitate. And as she paused, briefly, she did throw him a glance. Her eyes said she was sorry, even if her mouth didn't. Even if he feet walked in the opposite direction.

The Slayer was most likely on her way to her mates, he reckoned. Spike knew that if the same situation had happened a year ago they would have been the first port of call. And he also knew that if he hadn't been around when it happened, the Slayer would have come to him until the guilt built up in her enough to go to the police. Didn't matter, though. That's still where she had ended up. Seemed that no matter how messed up things got, the outcomes never changed. He had faith that no matter how much she beat him down or how much she said she didn't want him she'd be back in his bed soon enough.

"Spike?"

The Vampire was pulled from his thoughts by a friendly voice. There weren't many of those around in his unlife, so it didn't take him long to figure out who it belonged to.

"Yeah, what?" he said to Clem.

"Are you okay?"

"Lying bleeding in a bloody alley, what do you think?"

"Hey, no need to snap mister!" the demon scolded.

Spike smiled at him, no matter how much his face hurt. It was the first time Clem got a good look at him.

"Yeesh! What happened?"

"Had a little fight with the misses, init."

"Spike, this is wrong," said Clem, shaking his head. "Why would she-"

"It doesn't matter," Spike interrupted. "Not askin' you to understand."

"But-"

"It's between us. Now are you gonna help me back to my crypt or not?"

Clem did as he was asked and said nothing as he hauled the Vampire to his feet. It wasn't far to the cemetery but the journey was long enough for the demon's concern to bubble up in him again.

"You need help," he said.

"Please," Spike exclaimed, gesturing as he dismissed the comment, then wincing at the movement, "This isn't a damn domestic abuse situation. There are different rules for us."

"Maybe there shouldn't be."

Spike ignored his friend's words. Only asking to be passed a nearby bottle of bourbon in reply. There was silence again for a minute as Clem filled two glasses.

Then he asked, "You forgive her?"

"There's nothin' to forgive," Spike stated, firmly, before taking his first swig of the night.


	13. Just a Dead Thing: Part 2

Author Note: Set after 'Dead Things' ends.

* * *

**Just a Dead Thing: Part Two**

If Spike didn't have an innate ability to know where the sun was in the sky, and therefore always be able to figure out exactly what time it was just by taking a moment to think about it, he would have set his watch by Buffy. 'So bloody predictable,' he thought, as she crept into his home, right on cue.

Clearly she was expecting him to be in the below ground bit, because she almost walked past him in the dimly lit crypt.

"This a social call, luv?" he called out, from his chair.

She whipped round and gasped when she saw his face, which made him quirk an eyebrow at her.

"What?" he said. There was no way she hadn't known to expect cuts and bruises, seeing as she had been the one to cause them, and yet the surprise was genuine. Not being able to look in a mirror, Spike didn't know how bad they were, but he reasoned that they couldn't be any worse than a few hours previously when she left him in the alley.

"Nothing," she replied, finally, while unable to take her eyes off him.

Spike watched as she shoved her feelings down again, and hid her expression from her face. It was then that she looked away, and tried to pretend it hadn't happened.

"So…" she started.

"Don't you dare try an' give me bloody small talk," Spike snapped.

Her eyes shot back to his, and there was a tiny wince from her at seeing his injuries again.

Spike stood up and walked around her. Stalked her, like a lion eyeing up an antelope.

"Know what you're here for, so lets just get bloody on with it."

"Spike, no."

He reeled back. "You're telling me no, now?"

Buffy gaped at him. "I always tell you no!"

"Well, yeah, I'm just not used to hearing you mean it."

Buffy sighed. She couldn't deny that.

"I…" she began, then quickly trailed off. Purposefully she trained her eyes on the floor as she said, "That's not why I'm here."

Spike made a small 'hmm' sound, as he continued to circle her. Her shoulders were even more tense than when he'd massaged all the knots out of them the previous week. She didn't look up as he leaned in close and purred in her ear.

"Come to see how I am, is that it?"

"Y-yes," she stammered.

He took a step back again, and resumed speaking in his normal tone.

"Well you shouldn't have bothered. 'M fine."

"Clearly," Buffy replied, sarcastically.

"You really aren't even gonna say it, are you?"

She looked at him a final time – this time able to not react to what she saw - and played dumb.

"Say what?"

Spike shook his head. He hadn't expected her to apologize, and had even said to Clem that he didn't feel she needed to. So why did he crave the two little words so much? He cursed himself for wanting them.

"Look, I should go. Dawn is-"

"When are you gonna stop using the Bit as an excuse?"

"She isn't an excuse. She's my responsibility, and-"

The Vampire was still shaking his head. "She is when you want 'er to be."

Buffy glared at him. "I'm leaving," she stated, firmly.

Spike buckled first. He always did.

"No," he pleaded, despite himself. "Stay, please."

Buffy's shoulders sagged and she whispered, "Okay."

They sat down, opposite each other, and didn't talk. Just stayed in silence as they drank until things between them weren't quite so awkward anymore. And by that point Buffy had changed her mind, and Spike had stopped caring about his aching body.

He led her downstairs.


	14. Closer and Caught in Time

A/n: Missing Scene from 'Older and Far Away' (Season Six)

* * *

**Closer and Caught in Time**

Buffy half heartedly fended off the affections of her undead lover, not wanting anyone to catch them in an intimate moment, but not wanting him to stop either.

She tried to walk away but he pinned her against the wall of the staircase. She knew he was going to get his way eventually, and that there was no point fighting it any longer. Not when she wanted it so badly, too. He took her hand and brought it up to his side, she looked up at him, ready to give in, but the next thing she knew was Tara in the hallway staring at them.

Pulling away, Buffy went into the kitchen and overheard Spike give some lame excuse about a muscle cramp. When that awkwardness was over he came into the kitchen after her and she whispered in his ear, "Bedroom. Now." before pushing past him.

Spike followed behind; a wide grin on his face.

"Buffy," said Dawn, catching them on their way up the stairs. "Where are you going?"

"Uh, board games!" declared Buffy. "Was gonna get Monopoly from my room, although, I'm not sure exactly where all the pieces are…" she glanced at Spike. "Could take me a while to collect them all up. He's gonna help."

"Oh, cool," said Dawn before happily skipping back into the living room.

"Nice save," said Spike, under his breath, before adding "I'm a little disappointed in how gullible Niblet is though," a little louder.

"Sshhh, and hurry up!" said Buffy, taking the stairs two at a time.

"Demanding _and_ eager, I like it," he said, with the wicked grin returning to his face.

* * *

As soon as he got into her room and shut the door she pounced, pushing him against it and kissing him forcefully while sliding his coat off his shoulders at the same time.

He pushed her back saying, "Easy does it, kitten. I haven't given you your gift yet."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Stop teasing me, Spike. Isn't that why we're up here?"

"Cutie," he said, smirking, "Is sex _all_ you think about?"

"Well, it is a prevalent theme where you're concerned."

Chuckling, he reached into the pocket of his duster and pulled out a very neatly wrapped package – small, and soft, with a silk bow.

"Wow," said Buffy, looking genuinely touched, "You actually got me something."

"Well, yeah. Go on," he encouraged her, "Open it."

Pealing back the paper she found exquisitely delicate, hand stitched, lace panties.

"Thought you might need some more," he explained, "Since I have a nasty habit of tearing them up."

"No kidding," she smiled, "I've gone through more sets in the last couple weeks than the rest of my lifetime put together. These are actually beautiful. Are they designer?"

"Only the best for my girl," he affirmed, "Even paid for them too."

Setting them off to the side she pulled him away from the door and pushed him down on the bed.

"Knew it'd be worth it," he said, looking triumphant.

"Shut up," she told him, while pulling his shirt over his head. "And thank you, but I need you right now. No more interruptions."

"No more teasing," he said, rolling over so he was on top of her.

They undressed each other in between kisses that barely left Buffy any room to breathe – throwing the hastily removed clothes all over the room. As soon as he had her naked he pushed apart her knees and shoved himself inside her, taking no care to be gentle.

So tight and wet around him, she moaned and rocked her hips in perfect time with his.

"Harder," she said, digging her nails into his back, and he obliged.

Her moaning got more intense and she had to fight to stop herself from screaming in ecstasy. He got faster and built her up to her first orgasm before slowing down again and carrying on. He alternated between speeds for some time, making her cum again and again before he finally exploded inside her.

Laying his head on her chest, he stayed inside her while she got her breath back.

"So good," she said, eventually. "Ready to go again?"

His head shot up from between her breasts and he let out a little growl.

Taking that as a 'yes' she moved to take her turn on top and he held on tight to her hips as she went at it.

She lost count of how many climaxes he gave her, in the end, and he lost himself once again in awe at her physical strength and stamina, never mind her beauty.

They rested for a little while but they knew they couldn't stay together much longer without someone checking in on them.

"I need food," said Buffy.

"Yeah," said Spike, getting up, "And I need a smoke."

He pulled on his pants and did up his belt while watching her get dressed.

When she was done she walked over to him and gave him a long, lingering kiss.

"You go," she said, "Have your smoke. I'll get the game and meet you down there in a minute."

He nodded and said, "I love you."

She smiled back at him. Sometimes he found it easy to pretend she felt the same.


	15. Iced

Author Note: missing scene set between 'Older and Far Away' and 'As You Were' telling the origin of Spike's comment about Buffy liking ice on the back of her neck, as heard in 'Normal Again' (Season Six).

* * *

**Iced **

The assassins watched from the trees just beyond the cemetery, as the blond warriors battled each other.

"This bodes well for us, sister, don't you think?" said one.

"Quiet," said the other. "We don't want to alert the Slayer's attention too soon."

"She's caught up in battle; oblivious to all else. She won't notice us – until it's too late."

"Hmm… That's William the Bloody fighting her, is it not?"

"Yes, sister," she agreed. "Perhaps he'll finish her off and we won't need to."

"Hmm…" the eldest said again.

* * *

Spike caught Buffy with a left hook to her jaw, but she hit back immediately, almost knocking him off his feet.

"Jackass! I don't want bruises, I'm getting new photos taken for my work ID tomorrow!"

"Sorry, luv," he said, poised for the next punch, hopping from one foot to another with fists raised.

Driving a blow hard into her abdomen and following it up with a swipe at her legs he asked, "That better?"

"Screw you," she said, punching him in _his_ jaw.

He smiled – a trickle of blood running from the side of his mouth – then winked and said, "Later, luv, eh?"

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Come on, don't try an' pretend you don't love a bit of the old rough and tumble."

She ducked out of a swing at her midsection and then brought her knee up towards his groin.

"Sure, I mean, what's not to love?"

"Hey, no fair," he protested.

"Since when do you play fair?"

"I'm not talkin' about_ me_, Slayer. An' I'm pretty sure you're gonna want the goods intact for later."

Buffy shoved him away from her. "Oh, get over yourself."

"Rather get over you," Spike shot back, before closing the distance again.

She could tell in the way his posture changed that the game had also switched, and leaned in to meet his lips. Then came the tugging at clothes.

"What is this?!" exclaimed the younger assassin to her sister, a little too loudly.

Buffy and Spike shot apart as they both snapped back into battle stances and looked around.

"What was that?" asked the Slayer.

Spike sniffed the air. "Human-demon-hybrid. Two of them," he pointed, "Over there."

"Eww, hybrids? That's just unnatural!"

He shot her an annoyed look.

"Just getting you back for not noticing earlier."

"Was a little distracted, pet," said Spike in his defense.

The assassins stepped out of the darkness, then, as the older had thought the pair might get caught up in fighting each other again. She was not best pleased, and she intended to make Spike know it.

Her talons swiped at lower half, and he leapt clear with an emphatic, "Bloody hell!"

Buffy kicked the assassin away from him.

"Who do you think you are, huh? You can't just go around trying to chop off people's… parts!"

'Especially not his,' she added, silently to herself.

Assassin number one replied by trying to carve a bit out of her throat.

"Oi!" said Spike upon seeing the near miss, before being tackled to the ground by number two.

"Cut his head off," one instructed, "We don't need this distraction to our mission."

Two tried valiantly, but she was not as experienced as the Master Vampire.

"A distraction," he said, as he snapped her arm. "Convenient. In the bloody way. Is that how _everyone_ sees me?"

"No," Buffy replied, while smacking number one's head repeatedly into a tombstone. "Dawn quite likes having you around."

Spike paused to grin – both at the comment and how it was so casually delivered, in the middle of battle – but it was a mistake. He'd taken his eyes off Assassin number two, and she leapt on the opportunity, coming damn close to severing his neck with the claws of her uninjured arm. The only thing that saved him was Buffy noticing and temporarily abandoning her own fight to push him out of the way, cracking her head against the wall of Spike's crypt in the process. Dazed, she stayed down for a bit. Spike wanted to check her over, of course, but first he needed to deal with the threat.

He dispatched both of the assassins swiftly after that.

"No one messes with my girl," he crowed, as the last one died.

And then he was back at her side, helping her up.

"I, uh, think I need a minute," she said – eyes firmly closed.

"Here," said Spike, as he held her closer, "Lean on me. That's right."

Inside he could get a better look, under proper light.

"Wound's not to deep. Probably just a concussion," he said.

"Lucky me," Buffy replied. She still hadn't opened her eyes, as it was helping everything spin less.

When she felt something cold at the back of her neck she almost melted into Spike's arms.

"Oh, that feels good. A little lower. There. Ahhh."

Spike was smiling at her as he made mental notes to use ice in foreplay some time.

They didn't talk for a bit, until she got her equilibrium back, but it didn't take long.

"Why do you even have ice?" she asked, when she was finally able to think without wanting to throw up. She was looking at him now.

He shrugged. "Sometimes I like to make blood flavored snow cones."

"You are _so _gross!"

Laughing a little, he leaded in to whisper in her ear, "You love it."

As he pulled away again he pressed the ice to the back of her neck again, and she let out a little whimper.

"Shut up," she said, halfheartedly, in response to his previous comment.

Spike's smile widened, and he fought the urge to keep teasing her.

Buffy closed her eyes again and leaned back a little more, so her neck was fully resting on the bundled up ice in Spike's hand.

His eyes swept over her body, scanning for any other wounds that might need tending while also enjoying the view. The hand holding the ice pack moved slightly, drifting over a larger area of skin, while his free hand automatically found itself stroking the hair away from her face.

He was in awe. "So damn beautiful," he said, without really meaning to say it out loud.

Buffy's eyes flicked open, but they were soft. Not full of annoyance or rejection, for once.

She blushed at him.

"Y'know, I could probably be doing with some rest," she said.

"Oh, right," Spike switched into serious mode, "I'll take you home."

Buffy put a hand on his arm, "No, dummy, that was a not so subtle hint for you to take me downstairs."

"Oh," he said again, as his eyes lit up.

"Just be gentle, okay?"

Spike smirked at her. "Sure, luv, I can be gentle."


	16. What I Wish

Author Note: Missing Scene set between Season Six and Seven. Buffy's perspective on Spike being gone.

* * *

**What I Wish**

Buffy knocked on the door to Spike's crypt, and her heart sank a little when Clem answered it.

"He still not back yet?" she asked, and Clem shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Buffy, but it has only been a couple weeks."

"I know, I know," she said, nodding. "I just need to talk to him."

Clem looked anxious, unsure if he should say anything or not. In the end he told her "Spike was pretty distraught, before he left. I don't know what happened, and I'm not gonna pry, but maybe him not being around is for the best."

Buffy thought about it for a moment, before shaking her head. "No," she said, "We need to put this to rest, for my own sanity if nothing else."

"Well," said Clem, "If it's that important, why don't you write him a letter? Even if he never gets it it'll probably sort out all the thoughts in your head."

Again Buffy took some time to think it over. "Yeah, you may be right," she said, finally. "Thank you, Clement."

* * *

Later, in her bedroom, Buffy sat cross legged on the floor; pen poised in one hand, a notebook in the other, the room covered in torn up pieces of paper, and a resolute expression on her face.

"Spike," she wrote, for the twelfth time that day. "I feel so dumb writing this, not gonna lie. But I think we can both agree that things need to be said…

I don't believe, deep down, you wanted to hurt me. And I think in some ways I can understand what you were trying to do. I'm not saying you were right, or that you're excused, but I get it, okay? And I think you get it too. You know that you hurt me, and that it was wrong. That's why you went away. I get that too.

Xander thinks I should hate you, and maybe he's right, but the fact is: I don't.

I hate what you almost did, and that it hurt – still hurts – so much, but I don't hate you.

Looking back at it now, I can see there were a few points, where if things had of gone a little differently we' be in a whole other place right now. But in all those instances the wrong thing happened, to keep us on down the bad path. And I'm willing to take my share of responsibility in that.

Responsibility in the bad path, not in the other thing, because – oh, you know what I mean!"

Buffy closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and cracked her neck before continuing on, "If I hadn't denied I was attracted to you at the start. I mean, I found myself kissing you and yet I still refused to admit it!" – she shook her head – "If I had just let things develop naturally maybe we could have had a normal relationship. Or if your natural response to finding out you could hit me again was anything other than hitting me again, maybe we wouldn't be here now.

But even before that, if you'd have done things right, and properly helped out the gang when Giles first suggested it, right after you got chipped. We'd have spent more time working together, and getting to know each other properly. Things like that, so many things; that could have changed all of the stuff, between then and now.

You have no idea, how much I wish everything was different.

I wish I hadn't taken what was new and fragile between us to the next level – it was too soon. Way, way too soon. But I want you to know that I've always wanted you, and that in that moment I couldn't see anything else.

I wish I hadn't punished you, for all the things I was going through.

I wish I wasn't so scared, about how my friends would react to the truth.

God, I even I wish Xander would have married Anya, selfishly; so you never would have been together.

I wish we could have gone to their wedding and been a cliché happy couple ourselves. Or, even if that didn't work out, if Willow had found the camera feed a half hour earlier, and we overheard how much both of you were hurting. We could have went to you and tried to make things right before you did that. That hurt a lot too, y'know, for the record. But not as much as you telling Xander about us the way you did. I'm not blaming you for that, because it was my place to say and I didn't.

Even if you'd have accidentally told people on camera about us, it would have been such a relief in the end. I think when you said it – in that moment – you wanted to hurt me, like I'd hurt you and that hurt even more. God, there's just been so much hurt! And, what I'm saying is, that so much of it could have been avoided. I know it's pointless wishing, about things that could have been. But here's one wish for the future: that you'll come back, and we can fix things."

Buffy looked down at the words. They weren't perfect, but they would do. With a sigh she stood up, gathered all the loose sheets of paper, including the finished letter, and took them all outside, were she burned them and let the ashes blow away in the wind.


End file.
